Page 38 of My Orc Contract Husband
Tarkhan
Married.I was married. In the eyes of the law, in the eyes of our community, Sami belonged to me, and I belonged to her.
It was a heady feeling, and yet…
She wasn’t really mine.
In the days following our wedding, I moved my things from the apartment into her house. I didn’t have much—didn’tneedmuch—and she teased me that she’d cleaned out her closet for nothing.
Actually, she teased me about a lot of things, and I found myself loving it. I loved a lot of things about living with Sami. I loved cooking for her; I loved the way she smiled as she sipped her first cup of coffee in the mornings; I loved her little chuckle whenever she saw my woebegone aloe pups sitting on the kitchen windowsill; I loved theway she moaned when I played with her hair as we snuggled in front of the television.
The second bedroom was her office, but the bigger room was enough for both of us. Thank the old gods she already had a king-sized bed; I still had to sleep diagonally, but it turned out she didn’t mind cuddling up against my side.
It wasn’t the first time I’d slept with a female by my side, but itwasthe first time I found myself looking forward to waking up each morning. Not just because my wife was wonderfully responsive to my touch, but because I genuinely enjoyed spending time with her.
Yeah, we were meshing pretty well, which should’ve been a surprise…but somehow it really wasn’t.
You want to know the moment I knew I was right where I belonged?
When Sami pressed the button to roll up the garage door and proudly presented me with an almost-empty space. She’d moved all her gardening supplies to one small corner, leaving the rest of the garage for me. Finally being able to move all my tools and equipment out of my truck, seeing it all piled there in the middle of the garage? That really meant a lot to me.
Kinda felt like…well, felt like I washome, if that makes sense.
The following evening, after work, I started building her a table to go along the back wall of the garage so she could spread out her gardening stuff. And I was already looking forward to helping her plant the bulbs and herbs she was planning for the autumn.
A year and a day. You have a full turn of the seasons with her.
I was already afraid it wasn’t going to be enough.
Each day that passed, I could feel us relaxing more. Not just with each other, but in general. By the second week of our marriage, Sami no longer scanned our surroundings before climbing out of my truck—I still needed to build that step for her to climb up and down more easily. She no longer startled at the smallest noise, as if afraid someone was sneaking up on her, and I was grateful for that.
Was it possible Pierce T. Montgomery III had learned about our marriage and given up on having Sami—or rather, Sami’s half of the business—as his own? Was it possible he was going to leave us alone?
Yeah, I was becoming even more paranoid.
No, not paranoid. Just…uncomfortable. The more time that went by without Montgomery popping out of the woodwork and shouting “gotcha,” the itchier I became. I didn’t feel at home in my own skin.
Two weeks of marriage had gone by. Fifty weeks left. Had Montgomery somehow learned about our temporary arrangement? Was he going to wait us out and show up in three hundred and fifty-three days—not that I was counting—to announce he’d be taking Sami?
Like fuck I’d let that happen. Even if we were no longer married…
Usually it was around that point in the internal debate that one of two things would happen:
If I was at work, the foreman would point out my distraction, or the universe would by sending my hammer down hard on my thumb.
Or if I was at home, I’d grab Sami from behind and lick her neck in that exact spot I knew drove her wild, then allow myKteerto sink into the sweet scent of her arousal.
Home.
Yeah, I was home with her.
And no place felt more like home than her arms.
Each night—and depending on our mood, sometimes right after work—I slid into bliss with her skin against mine. It felt so damn natural to roll over and pull her against me, to run my callused palms gently down her sides, to cup her perfectly beautiful tits, totastethem.
I loved the noises she made when I kissed her. I loved the way she arched under my touch. I loved the way she wrapped her arms around my neck and bucked against me, as if she needed me to ground her.
Every evening I made love to my wife with my fingers and my tongue. There was nothing—nothing, I tell you—in this world that compared to the taste of Sami’s climax. I would slide one, two, sometimes even three fingers into her as I licked her, murmuring words of praise as I gently stroked that rough patch that drove her mad…and she’d scream my name as she came on my face.
